


One day

by Mina_the_legend



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Other, Paul and Patryk are Tord's adopted parents, Paul is the one to cut off Tord's arm, Takes place shortly after the end part 2, These are the characters, Tord is upset, Tord's insanity, not the real people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 15:22:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12301956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mina_the_legend/pseuds/Mina_the_legend
Summary: Patryk, Paul, and Tord go back to the Red Army base only for Paul to tell his son bad news.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at a earlier hour without sleep, so don't yell at me if it's bad.

'What would I need friends for when I have this?'

His own accented voice echoed his head as he watched smoke coming from the place he called home.

'I'm unstoppable! Hahaha!'

He groaned as he muttered in a raspy voice.

"I'm such a goddamn liar." The small nowegian gripped tightly onto his now bloodied bandaged unmovable arm as he heard the sound of a engine behind him.

"Tord, come on we need to get back to the base." Said the polish man behind him. He turned his head to see the dark haired male holding the handle of the car door. 

"......Dad...." The polish male's facial expression that held a small smile, turned into a face of concern.

"You haven't said two words since we found you...I know this is hard....but the soldiers-"

The norwegian male angrily turned around and threw a piece of rumble that sat on the ground next to him from his destroyed giant robot, it hitting Patryk's head.

"FUCK THE SOLDIERS!!! DON'T YOU SEE, DAD?!!! I'M A MISERABLE FAILURE!!!" He took a few deep pants.

"No. No.....I can't let this happen again....I...I..." He looked back and the houses the cliff overlooked.

".....he's going to pay...." He paused as he began to mutter in norwegian and rubbed his arm, blood trickling down his arm and into the grass.

Patryk sighed as he looked back to the car and looked to the dutchman inside and gestured for him to say something. The older man looked up from one of Tord's hentai magazines that was left in the car and pressed a cigarette to his lips and shrugged.

"Well your no helpful..." He whispered and looked back to his son. The young male began to stand up and limp towards the red car. He instantly looked to see the hentai magazine and used his good arm and snaked it through the open window and ripped it from his other fathers hands.

"Hey!" Patryk ran to open the backseat door for his son. Paul looked to the back seat as his son was helped in the car, he stared at the bandaged arm.

"Can you move it?" He asked as he breathed out smoke. The norski groaned as he struggled opening the magazine in his lap.

"Pop what do you think? I can't barely flip a goddamn page." Patryk slammed the passenger seat door as he entered the car. Paul turned back forward, adjusting his sideveiw window to look at his son's arm, knowing what he'd have to do. 

The arm could get infected if it's not properly treated, and for how long he'd been laying on the ground, it was probably to late. The dutchman took a breath as he started up the car. 

This would be a long drive home.


	2. Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After thinking of all he has done, is the feeling of regret starting to show in Tord?

The car was silent the whole ride back to the Red Army base.

Patryk sat in the passenger seat, going through emails and reports that were to go to Tord on his tablet, and Paul drove. 

In the back of the Dutchman's mind was the fact that the whole army would question the state their leader was in and why he'd hadn't gotten the giant robot he'd clearly announced he'd was leaving to get.

Paul would glanced at his son from time to time to see him staring out the window, dazed. The norski had barely moved in his seat. The hentai magazines he took just sat in his lap, untouched. With right hand he gripped tightly onto his bloodied left. The male just looked out the window, his face completely lost in thought. Paul thought a moment, looking for the words to say. "Uh, Tor-" "PAUL!!! ROAD!!!"

The car screeched as the Dutchman frantically drove the car back onto the road, his husband beside him holding on for dear life to the car seat. A loud popping noise filled the air as the car spun out of control and eventually came to a stop. 

"JEZUS PAUL !!! ZAPŁAĆ UWAGĘ NA DROGĘ!!! MOŻESZ ZABIĆ NAS ZABIŁO!!!!" Paul loudly groaned.

"I can't understand you when you switch languages on me like that." Patryk yanked his wing hair.

"YOU COULD'VE GOTTEN US KILLED!!!" The Polish male coughed and opened the car door.

"And our tires are flattened! Great! When I thought shit couldn't get any worse!" Sarcasm filled his tone as he sighed and looked at his son in the back seat.

"You alright, Tordy?" The Norwegian male groaned as an answer as he clutched tightly onto his arm. Paul put an unlit cigarette in his mouth before opening the car door and getting out. 

  


He looked around the tires and seen every one was blown out. The dutchman muttered a "Fuck" before noticing multiple road strips laid out behind the red car. Another "Fuck" was muttered as the short male walked over to Patryk's door.

"There's road strips. Either they were meant for someone else or someone knew we're going to pass through here...." Patryk's eyes widened as he looked to his husband to his son. Tord's head dropped as he took a shaky breath.

"...Well that's great news, huh Pop?" Patryk's gaze went back to Paul who had took a step the car, the polish male nodded and Paul digged out the radio from his pocket.

"All troops who are in the nearby area, this is Commander Paul, I repeat, this is Commander Paul, I'm with Commander Dulewicks and we've Red Leader with us, we need assistance back to the base, I repeat, we need assistance back to the base." The radio beeped and a female voice came on the line.

"Commander! Is everything alright?!" Paul glanced to Patryk.

"Urm....yes, the tires of Tor- I mean....Red Leader's car blew out...and we...need assistance back to the base...." The voice went silent before saying anything else.

"There's a helicopter coming your way, sir."

"Thank you, cadet."

"If I may ask....was Red Leader able to get the giant robot?" The Dutchman's eyes widened as he exchanged glances with Patryk the looked over to his son, who'd flopped over in the seat depressingly.

"That's classified information, cadet." 

 

"But-" Before Paul processed what happened the next thing he seen was Patryk throwing the radio against a tree, it shattering into thousands of pieces.

 

"That's enough of that, shall we wait in the car?" The dutchman was left speechless as the taller male walked to the passenger side. Paul slowly walked to the car and looked to depressed Tord before getting in. 

 

"It shouldn't take that long to get here, we're not THAT far from the base." Paul sighed as he nodded fishing out a lighter from his pocket and lighting the cigarette that had been sitting in his mouth. Pat looked over to his and coughed soon as he made contact with the smoke.

 

"I wish you would smoke those cancer sticks!"

"But I do."

"I wish you wouldn't!"

"I've been smoking since I was ten, Pat." The Polish male turned his head away.

 

"There's probably a whole lot a crap wrong with your lungs." The dutchman breathed out smoke as he tilted the front view mirror to get a look at Tord.

 

"You don't give him shit about smoking those cigars." The Polish male looked back at the small Norwegian.

 

"Well he's...Tord....the Red Leader...he's different from went he was a kid...he...used to be sweet, but still a troubled child....and now....he just...barks orders at people..." Paul sighed.

 

"Yeah, I miss when he was little." The image of Tord holding his bloodied arm from earlier that day flashed through his mind.

 

"He's going through so much right now...I wonder....if he regrets this path he chose?"


End file.
